


Heat Stroke

by Lynds



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Canon Compliant, Canonical Child Abuse, Dirk Gently Needs a Hug, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Heat Stroke, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Todd Brotzman, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Priest is His Own Warning, Protective Todd Brotzman, Sickfic, Sort Of, Todd Brotzman is Bad at Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 07:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15903309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds
Summary: As the day gets hotter and the water runs out, Dirk finds it harder to remember where he is, and what's going on. Todd's irritability turns into a threat, and all he wants to do is make sure he stays strong so that Riggins and Priest don't come punish him for being weak and ill.Or: Dirk gets slightly delirious from heat stroke, dehydration and panic, and Todd is Not Good at Feelings.





	Heat Stroke

Todd was getting grumpy. Well, Todd was always grumpy, but he was getting grumpier. Dirk could see it in his eyes.

He’d tried to distract him with funny stories, interesting things he saw in the stalls, and that bird that looked a lot like a duck but it was _pink_ , Todd, did you see? But it just seemed to make him even grumpier.

Dirk figured it was the heat. It was abnormally hot even for mid-July in Washington, and they were starting to run out of cash. The fair stalls wouldn’t take cards, and even water was twice as expensive as in a regular shop. 

Todd muttered under his breath that they should have brought more with them. Dirk looked at the couple of inches left in the bottle and put the lid back on. Probably wouldn’t be very popular if Todd wanted a drink and found nothing left.

He dipped his hands in a fountain at a pottery stall, ignoring the dirty looks he got from the stallholder. As he stood, he blinked and staggered, dizzy with head rush.

Todd was standing in the shade, a scowl on his face, and Dirk felt a flutter of anxiety low in his gut. it was his fault they were out on the hottest day of the year. Dirk had _known_ the Universe wanted him to be here the moment the craft fair flyer had blown into his face. Sure, it was hard to connect a missing shipment of concrete with a craft fair but honestly, if it had been a normal crime the Universe wouldn’t have given it to him.

He tried a tentative smile, but Todd just rubbed sweat off his face with his t-shirt sleeve. it was a very nice t-shirt, Dirk thought, even if it was grey. It was soft and supple and fit him perfectly. Todd hated it, but Dirk loved the way it clung to his chest and sometimes rode up to show a little trace of skin.

He shook his head. Todd was talking. “Sorry, what? I didn’t catch that.”

Todd huffed. “I said, where to next? Or is the Universe happy to just let you guess?”

Dirk flinched a little at Todd’s tone, felt his shoulders rounding. “I don’t know.”

Todd sighed and pushed himself forwards, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘fucking Universe.’

Dirk followed, fiddling with his fingers. He tried to press, to deliberately feel the nudge of the Universe. He didn’t want Todd to be cross with him. But just like every other time he tried it, the more he pushed, the less he felt. He’d proven time and time again that’s not how it worked, he wasn’t psychic. But he had hoped that… maybe for Todd it would be different.

The sun beat down on his head, and his hair felt like some sort of brain oven, baking him dry. His tongue was sticking to the roof of his mouth and his lips were tingling. He felt sunburnt, but that couldn’t be it. Todd had made him put suncream on at least twice already.

He was finding it hard to separate the low grade buzz of worry that always ran in the background from this new thing. He was becoming more and more aware that this wasn’t normal. Or, well - he knew he was never normal, but this was something new and unhealthy. His eyes fluttered, trying to close.

He shook himself and made an extra effort to stand straight, look healthy, not be weak. Weakness was punished.

His fingers felt numb and he stroked the tips of them over the pad of his thumb, just to feel the buzzing sensation.

He watched Todd’s back. Todd was kind. He might be grumpy but he cared about Dirk, didn’t he? He wouldn’t punish Dirk for being weak, would he? Dirk’s fuzzy brain fantasised about Todd catching him and holding him, looking after him, like people who cared did in the movies. He wondered if he could trust him enough to let go with the fingernail grip he always had.

He staggered, his feet not receiving the messages from his brain. Todd turned, grabbing his elbow before he fell. “What’s wrong with you?” he snapped, his brow furrowed into a frown.

It was like ice water dumped over his head. Stupid, stupid Dirk, never show weakness, now you’re going to get a punishment and it’s going to hurt and everyone’s going to shake their heads and put you back in training. Dirk wrapped his arms around himself, drawing up all his defences. “Nothing! I’m _fine!”_

Todd narrowed his eyes at him and Dirk wondered when he’d started work at Blackwing, when he’d become a handler. No… no, he wasn’t, he was Todd, he was his best assis-friend, but he couldn’t disappoint him, not Todd, not his favourite person, _don’t look at me like that, you’ll see and you’ll be cross I’m pathetic—_

“Dirk!” said Todd sharply. Dirk flinched and felt tears prickling at his eyes. Todd was so angry. He hunched his shoulders and tried not to look Todd in the eye in case he saw it as defiance - no, that’s Priest, isn’t it?

“C’mere, just sit down a minute. Drink this, OK?” Todd gripped his elbow and backed him up to the meagre shade of a stall. “I’ll be right back.”

Dirk stared at the bottle in his hand, just a few sips of water left. He wasn’t thirsty, he didn’t think? Just afraid and sad and angry with himself and a little sick. He tried to figure out how he’d made Todd mad, but his body seemed to be floating, bobbing along, just a leaf in the— a stream would be nice, wouldn’t it? It was too hot, he wondered if the stream had all evaporated. He blinked sadly. Poor stream. Where was Todd? Had Todd been the stream? No, he’d made Todd angry because he couldn’t cope with a little heat, he’d been attention seeking and pretended to faint, hadn’t he? He must have, he was always pretending, always complaining when the pain wasn’t even that bad, never tried hard enough, and Riggins would make that disappointed face and be forced to hurt him or someone else.

He flinched and put his hands over his head as someone crouched down in front of him. Not Priest, not Priest!

But it was Todd, blue eyes sad and sort of blurry. He held out a bottle of water and a piece of fudge. “Can you walk, do you think? There’s a tree up there you can lie down under.”

He nodded and wished he hadn’t when the world rocked. “Definitely. I can definitely do… that.”

“OK, great,” said Todd, and he gave him a little smile. Aha! So he was right, he needed to be strong.

Todd helped him up, holding both hands. Dirk concentrated very hard on not facing over, but he had a really terrible case of head rush. Todd grabbed his arm and slung it over his shoulder, holding Dirk tight around his waist. Dirk sighed. All the times he’d wished to be held like this and now… “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” Todd asked, eyes fixed on the tree.

“I made you angry,” he said softly, hunching again.

“What?” Todd stopped and stared up at him. “I wasn’t angry.”  
Dirk slumped even more. Now he’d insulted him as well. He let Todd lead him further, trying not to lean on him too much, trying to stop his feet from doing that drunken shuffling.

“Here,” said Todd. “Sit down and eat this. A sports drink would be better, but they didn’t have any, so fudge and water it is.”

Dirk nibbled on the creamy sweet and drank the water every time Todd prompted him. He could barely keep his eyes open and his lips were still tingling, but possibly getting better? “I think I’m fine now, Todd, thank you.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” he said, sounding almost amused. He poured some of the water onto a piece of cloth and turned to Dirk. “C’mere,” he said, tugging him gently so he found himself lying in Todd’s lap. Todd dabbed at his face with the cloth, making him gasp a little at the cold, then laid it on the back of his neck. Dirk sighed again, wanted to relax and nuzzle into him, but surely he was still a little angry?

“What made you think I was mad at you, Dirk?” Todd asked softly.

He started running his fingers through Dirk’s hair, and he melted, too fuzzy and comfortable to answer straight away.

“You sounded angry,” he said at last. His voice sounded strange, sort of slurred. “You said ‘what’s _wrong_ with you’ and I knew I’d been bad again.”

Just saying it out loud took a weight off him, and he relaxed, his fingers gripping Todd’s leg while he stroked his hair.

“I’m so sorry, Dirk,” said Todd softly. “I know I’m a total jerk, but that was… I wasn’t angry. I was concerned. You looked so out of it, I just… I was scared.”

“You were scared?”

“Well yeah. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“You care if I’m ill?” He was still very confused. Only simple things were making sense, and this just didn’t really sound that simple. Dirk frowned.

Todd’s hands stilled. “Jesus, Dirk, of course I… of course I _care.”_

“Why?” he asked, doling around so he could see Todd’s face.

The cloth slipped off his neck and Todd picked it up, dampened it again and stroked his cheeks, his forehead, his throat. His face looked soft, and scared, and small, the way Dirk felt. “I… I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you again,” he said. His eyes were fixed on the cloth as he stroked it up and around his jaw, his temple, his brow. “I know I’m a… a grumpy asshole, and I’m shit at all this… this… feelings and being kind and—“

“You’re quite good at it with me,” he said. He thought he might be able to feel his tongue again after all.

Todd smiled and met his eyes for a moment, tearing them away as a blush flared across his cheeks. “Yeah, I'm really not. But... I care about you. Like, a lot,’ he said, almost in a whisper.

“I care for you, too, Todd.”

“I mean…” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His fist clenched around the cloth, sending a little stream of cool water down Dirk’s collarbone. “I think… IthinkImightloveyou.”

It all came out in a rush. Dirk blinked. He wasn’t sure if his head was still fuzzy, but “I’m sorry, what? I didn’t—“

“I love you, you idiot,” he snapped, and started wiping his face again, a little roughly. His cheeks were bright red, his forehead creased into that frown Dirk loved so much. “So… if you could stop getting hurt - and if you are hurt or ill I’d really appreciate you actually _getting help?_ I’m not…” 

He closed his eyes again, and looked so bleak, Dirk had to touch his face. He blinked. “I’m sorry, I’m doing it again, aren’t I? I’m such an ass.” He took a deep breath. “I just don’t want you to be ill. But… if you are, I want to look after you and… and kick the ass of whatever hurt you, OK?”

Dirk smiled and stroked his cheekbone. “Todd Brotzman versus the heatwave.”

“Shut up, idiot,” he snorted, and stroked his throat with the cloth again. Dirk sighed and relaxed.

“I hope you already know I love you too,” he murmured sleepily.

The cloth stilled. “No,” said Todd shakily. “No, I didn’t know that.”

Dirk linked their hands together and opened one eye. “You’re a terrible detective, Todd.”

He laughed. It was a damp little chuckle, and he had to turn his face away to wipe his eyes, but it was quite the most beautiful sound Dirk had ever heard, amazed and wondering. Dirk kissed his fingers. “I think I loved you the moment I told myself you were my best friend.”

Todd smiled down at him like the stars, stroking his hair behind his ear. “I am an idiot.”

Dirk closed his eyes again and thought maybe he could let go if Todd was there, let his fingers slip from the edge. Because Todd would catch him, and probably swear at the edge for good measure.

“Dirk,” he said softly. “Don’t go to sleep, babe. Drink some more, and if you still feel bad we’ll find a medic.”

Dirk smiled up at him. For the first time in his life he thought if he let himself drop, he might not fall very far.


End file.
